


Variation 4

by seekingferret



Series: The Jessica Goldberg Variations [5]
Category: Merchant of Venice - Shakespeare
Genre: Gen, Shiva - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:36:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3455891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingferret/pseuds/seekingferret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jessica mourns her father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Variation 4

Jessica learns of her father's death in a letter from her cousin Hanoch. He is the only member of her family she is still in contact with, and even his letters have gotten rarer with time, not out of hatred but merely because his business has been going well. But he makes sure to dispatch a note to her the day of the death.

"I am certain you will not be able to make it from Belmont in time for the funeral, as Shylock will of course be buried tomorrow. I could not guarantee that you would be welcome by all, in any case," he writes. "But I nonetheless wish to comfort you among the mourners of Zion." She feels the words like a stab in her heart. The note continues, "Your father died as he lived, foolishly but bravely. He will be missed by all in the community. I'm afraid there is not much of an estate for you to inherit, and there are a few debts, so perhaps it is for the best that you not return to pay your respects."

When her husband returns to their apartment at the end of the workday, she speaks to him urgently, in a tone he has learned from experience not to argue with. "I have received word that my father has died. I will be observing the mourning customs of my people for the next seven days. I will not be leaving the house. I will not be sharing my bed with you. I will not be preparing your dinners. If you wish to dine at the tavern every night, I don't care. I don't care what excuse you tell your friends, but I will not be hosting the party you planned for Tuesday. Do you understand?" Lorenzo nods, chastened and meek, and after several attempts to comfort her bear no obvious fruit, he leaves to go attend to his dinner. She nonetheless appreciates his efforts.

The week is quiet and lonely. She sits on a pillow on the floor and eats cold grains and entertains no visitors. At night, she misses her husband's warm arms around her body. Her home is a weak parody of the shiva homes of her childhood, lacking the imported noisiness of guests with steaming pots of food. The only sound that fills the house is her occasional sorrowful wailings. As the week goes on, she cries less and less. When seven days have passed, she returns to her husband's bed and her wifely duties.

The world moves on, and even though some part of her hated Shylock, even though some part of her still hates the memory of him, she marks his nachala with a candle every year. Some years, Lorenzo joins her, watching the fatty candle burn down, and she is comforted in knowing both the costs and the rewards of the choices she made as a foolish young girl have made her into the woman she is today.


End file.
